


ankle break

by rire



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Birthday Smut, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fluff without Plot, Humour, M/M, Post-Winter Cup, Smut, manga spoilers mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 09:50:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3245204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rire/pseuds/rire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akashi was supposed to ankle break other people, not ankle break himself.</p><p>When Kuroko finds out about Akashi's sprained ankle, one half of him almost wants to laugh at the inherent irony of the situation. But the other half is actually really concerned for Akashi’s well-being, so instead, he packs his bags and heads over to Kyoto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ankle break

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Kuroko!
> 
> I came up with this while thinking about how ironic it would be if Akashi the ankle-breaker hurt his ankle. And the fact that there aren't many fics where Kuroko takes care of Akashi; it always seems to be the other way around. So yeah, this is really just self-indulgent fluff with smut thrown in there because I can’t help myself.

Akashi was supposed to ankle break other people, not ankle break himself.

Kuroko doesn’t quite know what to expect when he gets a phone call from Mayuzumi. When he finds out about Akashi’s sprained ankle, one half of him almost wants to laugh at the inherent irony of the situation. But the other half is actually really concerned for Akashi’s well-being, so instead, he packs his bags and heads over to Kyoto.

He’s never been to Rakuzan before. The school has a sort of high-class, regal air to it, much like Akashi himself. The courtyards are huge, and students bustle to and fro, even on the weekend. It’s a boarding school, after all.

He’s tempted to explore the place—he sees some cozy-looking benches under the shade of a tree that would be perfect for sitting in and reading a book. But that’s not what he’s here for, so he hurries to the dorms.

When he arrives at room 411, he digs out the key Mayuzumi had given him from his pocket and sticks it in the lock.

“Please excuse me, I’m coming in,” he says, turning the lock and walking in. In any other situation, he would never have broken in, but he figures Akashi wouldn’t be able to get the door anyways. The room is surprisingly small and unsurprisingly organized. In front of him on the bed is a bundle of covers with one tuft of red hair poking out. Akashi pushes the covers off of his face, his red eyes wide with surprise.

“Tetsuya? What are you doing here?” Akashi sounds as if he’s been caught off-guard. Kuroko’s not used to hearing Akashi sound this way. Then again, he’s never really imagined the idea of Akashi getting injured, either.

“I came here to see how you are doing, Akashi-kun,” Kuroko says simply, sitting down on the bed next to him. “How is your ankle?”

“It’s almost two hours by train to here,” Akashi says. Kuroko can’t tell if he’s amazed or upset. “Tetsuya, you should have called first.”

“But you would have told me that you’re fine and that I didn’t need to come.” Akashi might know Kuroko well, but the reverse is also true.

“Which happens to be true.” Akashi props himself up slightly to glance over at the clock on his desk. Kuroko doesn’t miss the way he hesitates in the process and bites his lip in pain. “It’s only one in the afternoon. You should head home and spend the rest of the day with everyone else. I’m sure Ryouta would have something exciting planned for your birthday.”

“Kise-kun has work today, anyways,” Kuroko says. He’d had to fight off a crying, apologetic Kise for half an hour and assure Kise that it was all right if they hung out some other time. “Let me see your ankle, Akashi-kun.”

“It’s just a sprain,” Akashi says, shifting a little to the side. The small lump at the foot of the bed, hidden under his covers, moves a little. Kuroko assumes it’s Akashi’s injured foot, which is probably propped up on something. “It isn’t a big deal. By the way, who gave you the key to my room?”

“Mayuzumi-senpai.” Kuroko catches the rather scary look in Akashi’s eyes too late and briefly feels sorry for whatever fate awaits Mayuzumi when he gets back. “He was worried about you,” Kuroko adds quickly. “But he had some errands to run, and he told me that the rest of your teammates had gone home for the weekend. He said that we seemed close, so he entrusted me with the task.”

Close is an understatement, and both of them know that. Kuroko wonders briefly if Mayuzumi knows the extent of their relationship. Then he realizes he has gone off-topic. Which is exactly what Akashi wants, and Kuroko has played right into it, as usual. But not this time.

“Please don’t change the topic, Akashi-kun,” Kuroko says, pulling the covers gently off of Akashi’s foot, and then winces slightly at the sight. There’s a large, swollen blotch of reddish-purple. At least Akashi had the sense to prop it up on a stack of books- light novels, it looks like.

In response to Kuroko's questioning gaze, Akashi speaks up. "Mayuzumi-san lent me them to read, but the content was quite boring, so I decided I would rather use them to elevate my ankle above heart level. It will speed up the healing."

"So you decided to use his books as a footrest."

"Yes."

Kuroko imagines the look of horror on Mayuzumi's face and feels a twinge of pity. “Well, the books are going to hurt your heel after a while,” Kuroko says, getting up and opening Akashi’s closet. “Do you have any extra pillows?”

Akashi shakes his head, so Kuroko emerges with a pile of sweaters instead and swaps the books for the much more comfortable sweaters. “Do you have any bandages?” Kuroko asks.

“Not within my reach,” Akashi admits, and Kuroko is infinitely thankful that Mayuzumi had the sense to inform him of Akashi’s ailment. Akashi may be intelligent, but he is also proud—knowing him, he would either lie there the entire weekend without proper treatment or hurt his ankle even worse by trying to do everything himself. “I have some in the drawer underneath my desk.”

Kuroko finds them easily and sits back down at the foot of the bed, pulling Akashi’s injured foot onto his lap. He runs his fingers down the swollen spot with a feather-light touch. “Does it hurt?”

“Not particularly, but it tickles.”

Kuroko’s eyes widen. “I didn’t know Akashi-kun was ticklish.” He’ll have to explore that fact some other time. If he pinned Akashi down and tickled him right now, he’d have the unfair advantage. He focuses instead on wrapping the bandages around Akashi’s ankle.

“You’re rather talkative today, Tetsuya,” Akashi replies, shooting Kuroko a rather complicated look that says  _if you tickle me you will die, but since you are Tetsuya and I love you, I will make it relatively painless._

Tying up the bandages, Kuroko smiles to himself. “Is it bad?”

“No,” Akashi says. “I like it.”

So Kuroko talks. He talks about Seirin, about Kiyoshi being sent off for treatment, about how Kagami ate a record-breaking fifty burgers yesterday, about how hard his teammates are working and how even Furihata has developed a new technique. He probably shouldn’t be tipping off the enemy, but Akashi looks so interested in every word hanging from his lips that he can’t really stop. It seems to distract him from the pain, too.

“I will be able to play basketball again in a week or two. I will definitely win the Inter-High,” Akashi says, staring at the ceiling. Huddled underneath the blankets with a bandaged ankle, the words have none of their usual imperiousness.

So yeah, maybe Kuroko shouldn’t have mentioned basketball. After all, basketball practice was what had caused the injury in the first place. As if Akashi didn’t overwork himself already—losing the Winter Cup must have made him that much more hungry for victory.

Kuroko simply shoots him a glare. “Akashi-kun, please don’t worry about that kind of thing. It’s more important for you to fully heal.”

Surprisingly obedient, Akashi drops the subject, but the determination in his eyes remains. Kuroko’s going to have to phone Mayuzumi to check in on him and make sure he doesn’t sneak off to practice.

“How long has it been since you last iced your ankle?”

Akashi reaches besides his pillow and pulls out a small plastic bag full of melted ice water. “A while.”

Kuroko takes the bag and looks around, then realizes there isn’t a bathroom or a sink.

“We all share a bathroom on this floor, but there is ice in the vending machine downstairs,” Akashi helpfully points out. “If you wouldn’t mind getting it for me.”

“There's no need to be polite, Akashi-kun,” Kuroko says, hurrying out the door. “I’ll be right back. Please don't move while I'm out.”

“Thank you,” Akashi says quietly, and Kuroko just shakes his head and smiles, closing the door behind him.

He journeys downstairs and back up with ease. No one notices that he’s not a student at Rakuzan. No one notices him at all, actually, but that’s nothing new.

When he returns to the dorm, though, something is off. Akashi is sitting upright against the headboard, hands folded behind his back, and the covers are pushed to the side. Kuroko narrows his eyes, and Akashi flashes him a deceptively charming smile.

“Akashi-kun, I told you not to move, and smiling at me is not going to help,” Kuroko admonishes, sitting on the bed.

“I went to the bathroom,” Akashi says serenely.

Kuroko’s pretty sure Akashi is lying—the bathrooms are down the hall and it’s highly unlikely that he could have gotten there in the five minutes Kuroko was gone. But Akashi looks fine, so he doesn’t press the subject. At least Akashi still has his foot propped up on the sweaters. Kuroko presses the bag of ice to his bandaged ankle, and Akashi closes his eyes and lets out a soft hiss.

“Sorry,” Kuroko mumbles. The sudden cold probably startled him. “Does it feel better, though?”

Akashi nods, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Kuroko’s forehead. “Thank you, Tetsuya.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Akashi-kun,” Kuroko replies, shifting closer and cupping a hand around Akashi’s face. “This is hardly anything in comparison to everything you have done for me up until now.”

Akashi wraps an arm around the back of Kuroko’s neck and pulls him in closer until their lips touch. The warmth of Akashi’s lips sends tingles down Kuroko’s spine. Unable to resist, he climbs on top of Akashi until he’s straddling him. It’s easier this way—Akashi doesn’t have to lean in and risk hurting his injured foot. Kuroko presses their chests together, relishing in the warmth of Akashi’s skin burning beneath the fabric. Akashi’s kisses, slow and languid and passionate, melt Kuroko from the inside out. He gasps into Akashi’s mouth when he feels warm hands slipping between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his pants, caressing the patches of skin there with his thumbs.

“I want you, Tetsuya,” Akashi purrs, breath ghosting against the shell of his ear, and it’s all Kuroko can do not to buck his hips against Akashi. It takes all of his effort to get his common sense to return, but he manages it.

“Akashi-kun, not now,” Kuroko mumbles, sounding unsure even to his own ears. He casts a glance over his shoulder at Akashi’s ankle. The bag of ice is still pressed to the side of it, and it’s melting quickly. “You should avoid rigorous exercise. It might strain your injury even more.”

“While it is important to recover, it is also essential not to completely avoid physical activity,” Akashi counters. “I still need to keep my other muscles conditioned.”

“Akashi-kun, I’m pretty sure whatever health care book you were quoting wasn’t referring to _those_ muscles.”

“We’ll do it this way,” Akashi says with an air of finality, running a hand down Kuroko’s thigh. “I won’t have to move much, so it’s fine.”

Kuroko lets out a noise halfway between a sigh and a whimper. He’s putty in Akashi’s hands, and they both know it. Both of them also know that Akashi always gets what he wants. “If you hurt yourself, we’ll stop right away, okay?”

“I won’t hurt myself,” Akashi says in absolute confidence, and promptly gets to work on Kuroko’s belt. He unbuckles it with deft fingers and unzips his pants—Kuroko has to raise himself on his legs a bit to allow him to slide the pants down and off. He quickly forgets the slight awkwardness of the position when he sees Akashi’s scarlet gaze boring into him and feels a hand cup him through his boxers.

A breathy gasp escapes from his lips when Akashi curls his fingers around his cock, stroking it through the fabric of his boxers. Akashi silences him with a kiss and slides his other hand up and down Kuroko’s inner thigh, a gentle yet firm caress. Already the pleasure is making him dizzy, but Kuroko manages to unzip Akashi’s pants with shaky hands. Akashi lifts his hips with a soft grunt, and Kuroko slides his pants and boxers off but leaves them bunched around his ankles so as not to move Akashi’s injured foot.

The front of Kuroko’s boxers is getting damp, so Akashi pulls them off slowly as well. A pink tongue darts out to lick his lips, but doesn’t do anything, making Kuroko squirm under his gaze.

“Akashi-kun, please hurry up.”

“Are you ordering me around, Tetsuya?” Akashi says, but he sounds a little amused. “Get yourself ready for me. The lube is in the bottom drawer of the nightstand.”

Kuroko isn’t sure how much of that request is fueled by the fact that Akashi can’t actually get up to reach the lube. He suppresses a smile and obediently retrieves the bottle from the drawer. He spreads it over his fingers, feeling the blood rush to his face when he presses it against his entrance and sinks one in. It’s not so much embarrassment as it is arousal from the way that Akashi is watching him so intently, pupils blown apart with desire. He inserts another finger, then another, stretching himself open, sighing with anticipation as he imagines Akashi’s cock filling him up.

Akashi surprises him by tugging at his wrist until his fingers slip out, but before he can react, his fingers are replaced by Akashi’s own. He lets out a surprised yelp at the sudden sensation.

“I thought you wanted to—”

“I changed my mind,” Akashi says. “I can’t wait after all.”

Kuroko opens his mouth to speak, but lets out a whimper instead when Akashi’s fingers find his prostate and his legs turn to jelly. Akashi smiles, thrusting his fingers towards that sweet spot again and again until Kuroko’s cock is achingly hard and his knuckles are white, grasped tightly on Akashi’s shoulders.

“Please, Akashi-kun,” he gasps, and _finally_ Akashi pulls his fingers out, bracing both his hands on Kuroko’s hips. Kuroko notes rather proudly how hard Akashi is despite barely having been touched. He takes the chance, positioning himself above Akashi’s cock and sliding down all the way. Immediately the pleasure shoots up his spine and he arches his hips, mouth hanging open in a silent gasp.

Akashi's grip tightens on Kuroko's hips, and Kuroko gets the message. He moves, working himself up and down, legs shaking with the pleasant burn coursing its way through his body. Akashi groans and bucks his hips up a little-- Kuroko sinks down and meets him halfway, and the resulting brush against his sweet spot has him panting and gasping for air.

Akashi presses kisses along the side of his neck, bites down right above his collarbone as he thrusts up hard and fast. Kuroko mewls, his cock twitching and smearing precome on the fabric of his shirt.

Akashi picks up the pace, and at this point Kuroko's legs have turned to jelly and are hardly capable of moving. He simply takes it, grapples for hold on Akashi's shoulders, throws his head back and cries out Akashi’s name, over and over again, a mantra falling from his lips. He's close, he can feel it—the sweet burn in his legs and the tightness in the pit of his stomach becoming unbearable.

"Come for me, Tetsuya," Akashi pants breathlessly— and that's all it takes, really, for Kuroko to give himself over. He comes with a jolt, arching backwards as his orgasm shudders through his body. When it’s over, he feels like he’s been wrung out dry, but he braces himself on his legs again and grinds down on Akashi, gritting his teeth at the burn against his oversensitive insides.

It doesn’t take long for Akashi to follow, throwing his head back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut, mouth half-open in a silent gasp. Even in his most vulnerable moments, Akashi paints a stunning picture, the red of his hair splayed out against the white of the wall, muscles tense and cheeks flushed.

Kuroko gets off of Akashi’s lap, and the come dribbles down his thighs. Akashi, who is catching his breath, bites his lip again at the sight, and Kuroko just smiles and slides over next to him. Akashi drapes an arm gently over Kuroko’s shoulders.

“How do you feel?” Kuroko murmurs into the crook of Akashi’s neck.

“Much better,” Akashi says. “It would speed up my healing process if you were to stay with me for the next week.”

“But I have to go to school.”

“My orders are absolute, Tetsuya.” It doesn’t occur to Kuroko that Akashi might be joking until Akashi laughs— _laughs,_ and Kuroko’s heart skips a beat. He’s dangerously close to throwing all common sense out the window and sacrificing a week of schooling. Being apart all the time takes a toll on both of them, after all.

He snuggles closer to Akashi, and pauses in confusion when the corner of what feels like a small box brushes against his back. He’s about to look down and inspect the object when Akashi slides a hand over his eyes.

He hears the sound of the box being opened. Akashi's other hand slides around Kuroko's neck and he feels a cold, thin strand of metal sliding around his neck. Akashi removes the hand shielding Kuroko’s eyes, clasping the necklace at the back. Kuroko looks down to see a brilliant red gemstone pendant hanging on a silvery-white chain around his neck. 

“Akashi-kun, what…?”

"Happy birthday, Tetsuya,” Akashi says. “It’s garnet, your birthstone.” His eyes twinkle, even brighter than the gemstone, and Kuroko's breath hitches in his throat. Searching desperately, he finds no words to express how he's feeling.

"Do you like it?"

Kuroko nods fervently. "It's beautiful." He smiles to himself at the choice of colour. Akashi does have quite the possessive streak, but Kuroko doesn’t mind at all. “When did you…?”

“I retrieved it from the drawer when you left the room.” So he _had_ been lying after all—but Kuroko doesn’t even have it in him to be angry. Turning the pendant over in his hands, he marvels at the beautiful handiwork and wonders how much it had cost. He’s not sure if he wants to know.

“I don’t think I could wear this, though.”

Akashi frowns. “Why not?”

“If I wore it during a game, I wouldn’t be able to focus, because I would spend the whole time worrying about it falling off. I couldn’t forgive myself if I damaged something you gave me.”

“I’ll buy you as many as you want,” Akashi replies, serious as ever. “I will buy you dinner as well, as soon as I heal. We can catch up on the birthday celebration we missed.”

Kuroko smiles and shakes his head. “It’s fine. I’m happy as long I get to spend my birthday with you.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Akashi murmurs, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “It makes me want to have you all over again.”

Kuroko presses his face against the skin of Akashi’s neck to hide his blush. “Maybe tomorrow.” It’s an appealing thought, but Akashi’s already bedridden and, well, one of them has to be able to walk properly.

Akashi doesn’t respond—perhaps he’s tired as well. They fall into a comfortable silence, and as Kuroko listens to the steady rhythms of their heartbeats, feels the weight of the pendant around his neck, there really isn’t anywhere he would rather be.

When he looks up again, he finds that Akashi’s eyes are closed and that his chest is rising and falling softly with every breath. It’s the first time he’s seen Akashi asleep. Absentmindedly fondling the pendant around his neck, Kuroko commits the moment to memory.

**Author's Note:**

> I know very little about dorms and sprained ankles, so sorry for any inaccuracies. (And sorry Mayuzumi, I’m sure you’ll find someone to treasure your light novels someday.)


End file.
